


I Could Be Your Man

by bottomboybye



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Choking, Jesse talks a lot of shit, M/M, Oral Sex, PIV Sex, PWP, Past McReyes, Post Fall, Rough Foreplay, Squirting, Trans Genji Shimada, Trans Jack Morrison, Unprotected Sex, exhibition, jesse wants to be his man and jack doesn’t believe he’s worth shit, past everyone fucks everyone it’s just wild, past r76 - Freeform, sex in a hallway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23478139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottomboybye/pseuds/bottomboybye
Summary: Jack knows he should wait for Gabe to come back to him but what if Jesse is right? What if there’s nothing left of them when Jesse is here and overly eager to please
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison/Jesse McCree
Comments: 5
Kudos: 69





	I Could Be Your Man

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote for rare pair Jack Morrison week before realizing there was a prompt but I’d already written most of this so I guess I’m going AWOL

“He ain’t coming back.” The drawl infuriates him in a way Jack can’t quite place. The drawn-out syllables that speak of a fake past dredged up in the butchering of his pronunciation. 

Jack used to have an accent, back in the day. He isn’t quite sure when it faded away but he’s thankful he doesn’t sound anything like McCree. He can’t tell if the man forces it to be that unruly or if McCree does that of his own choice. 

“Didn’t ask for your opinion.” Jack gruffly responds but doesn’t bother to look at Jesse. He doesn’t need to see judgement from yet another member of neo-Overwatch that was in the old one as well. He’s had to deal with Ana, he doesn’t think he could take it from McCree. 

“It ain’t an opinion, Jack. It’s a statement of fact. You think he’d come back if you gave him those damn baby blues and a promise of— what, before? Shit wasn’t perfect then and it ain’t even close to decent now.” There’s an edge of frustration that rides along with his words. Jack can’t blame him, he knows it just as much as Jesse but refuses to face the facts. 

Jack can’t fault him for his truth but Gabriel was better than this whole Reaper thing. He just can’t figure out why he went so far off the deep end. Murdering innocent people? Becoming a terrorist? Gabriel is still Gabe but things have changed even if Jack refuses to acknowledge it. 

“I didn’t ask for your social commentary.” Jack snaps, teeth clacking hard enough to rattle his jaw. The sound feels like it echoes but it’s the pain that radiates into his ears. He doesn’t mean to snap but Jesse has always been good at being bamboo under his fingernails, akin to the festering wound on his lower back that stings in more ways than physical. 

“Don’t have to, my commentary is free of charge for a bullheaded, stubborn ass like yourself. One of these days you’re gonna remember people love you and that this fool’s errand is you chasing after a man that left you high and dry to take the fall for his actions. I remember it pretty clearly,  _ boss. _ ” Jesse pushes away from the wall he was previously leaning against. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see the tightness of his shoulder blades is barely contained rage. 

“You talk a lot of shit, McCree, but when he needed you the most— you left.” The Us goes unstated but understood. 

Jesse laughs. High. Hysterical. It makes Jack’s skin crawl in ways it hasn’t in years. 

“I lost my fucking arm for him. Just cause you reap the benefits of my arm don’t mean I think it’s a grand old time. He would’ve blamed me for shit if I hadn’t walked out. You think I give a flying rat’s ass about it right now? He was gonna take us all down, one way or another. I just didn’t have cock-shaped blinders on my eyes to tunnel vision on his dick and not his actions.”

Jack’s hand slams on the wall. The drywall crumbles beneath his fist. He can’t even remember the last time he saw drywall in an Overwatch base. He knew the patch jobs were rudimentary but not drywall over metal.

“Shut the fuck up. I’m tired of your fucking bitching.” Jack’s fist drags against the wall before dropping to his side. He’s cornered in a hallway leading to his quarters. He can’t just walk around Jesse without being within grabbing range. 

Well played.

“I ain’t done bitching. It’s so fucking stupid that I gotta stand here and spell it out for you. No one thinks you’re at fault here. We wanna help, we’re gonna help. You just gotta let us in and stop thinking that you’re just gonna waltz into a Talon base, see lover-ghost, and find your happily ever after. Shit just don’t work like that.”

“I know! Okay. I know,” Jack spits out, head snapping towards Jesse. He stalks forward, he tries to be intimidating but Jesse’s on the better side of 50. Even height always made an argument on level ground, “But I’m not going to stand here and think the worst of him. Gabe isn’t like that. He wouldn’t do something like this without good cause. Or.” 

“Or what? If he doesn’t have a good reason— then what? You just gonna roll on your back like a bitch and let him fuck you and see if your holes can heal him? Shit don’t work like that, Jack. I ain’t in the business of seeing you hurt.” Jesse stands straight, thicker than Jack ever really remembers him being. He’s gotten broad, settled into his skin in a way he remembers Jesse never being too sure of. Lanky, fumbling— like a colt. 

He doesn’t remember when it happened but Jesse really became the man Gabriel knew he could be. Just shit that Gabe couldn’t be here right now to see it. 

“I wouldn’t just roll over and let him. Jesus, I got some semblance of class.” 

He really doesn’t, not anymore. No more 5 star hotels since Zürich blew the fuck up in his face. Literally. His lip pulls when he talks and his leg hasn't felt the same since. He can feel every wound pulse with his heartbeat. Does he even have a heart, anymore? Or did Gabriel blow that up just as quickly as the building?

“Barely. I could grab your face and shove you into a wall and you’d beg for it.” 

Jack’s eyes narrow as he turns his body towards Jesse. He squares up for no other reason than it sounds like a threat. 

“Watch your mouth.” Jack barks out like Jesse is a subordinate. He never has been and never will be. It’s why he should see the shove coming but it doesn’t register until Jack’s back hits the wall with a dull thud. 

A piece of the punched drywall hits the ground but Jack can’t hear it over the rush of blood against his eardrums. He can’t stop the involuntary reaction of adrenaline that floods his system. 

Jack’s fight or flight has always flicked dangerously into fight without much coaxing thanks to SEP. 

“I’ll watch your pretty little mouth shout my name before I hear you give me backtalk. I ain’t your soldier, 76. I’m my own man and it’s best time you recognize that. I ain’t a kid. I ain’t some charity case. I could fuck you ten ways to Sunday and you’d beg for every damn second of it, ya hear me?” Jesse’s words punch Jack in the stomach as he begins to look over him. When did Jesse become a force to be reckoned with? Jack’s lower stomach rolls and his thighs clench. He’s not unaffected by his words. If anything there’s a simmer that begins to spark into a wildfire beneath his skin. 

Jack doesn’t know how to respond but it doesn’t look like Jesse needs feedback from him. There’s a forearm against his throat faster than his aging body can rightly keep up with, even when enhanced. The metal arm, the prosthetic. It’s cold against his throat in a way Jack wasn’t even sure it could be. 

“You like that idea, don’t ya?” Jesse rumbles as he applies pressure to Jack’s throat, “Want to be pushed around, dominated? Fuck, if I knew you were this much of a slut I would’ve done this at least a decade ago.” 

Jack feels his air cut off for a split second before the arm becomes a hand. Metallic hydraulics press against his sweets spots to slow blood flow and leave his head swimming. It feels good, so fucking good to float for a minute before Jesse lets the world flood back. Jack gasps even though he was never truly without air. 

“Ain’t even fighting me back. Is that what you liked about him? Wasn’t afraid to bend you over a knee and fuck you over? Bet you wished he’d fuck you in a hallway and the whole world got to see Strike Commander Morrison bared to the world for the filthy fuck he is.” 

“Was.” Jack rasps out and Jesse laughs but it sounds like a taunt. It makes Jack’s skin prickle and the need to punch McCree in the face spikes before he settles under the pressure. 

This is foreplay. He knows it. He can feel the way Jesse’s cock swells against his thigh. He is not unaffected either with the way his pants feel too tight and skin too hot for words. 

“Ah, still don’t think you’re Morrison, soldier? No matter how much you run and how far you hide, you’ll still be that pretty farm-bred boy that made half the U.N. have wet dreams for years. Should’ve fucked them instead of Reyes. At least when they fucked you over, it didn’t cost you your life.” 

McCree isn’t wrong but it doesn’t make it right, either. Jack wants to gnash his teeth and bark out unpleasantries but he finds he’s lost the will to. Emotionally, he feels drained. Physically, he’s keyed up to get fucked. He’s ready to be used like every man before and every man after Jesse. 

He’ll never be a front line choice and he’ll never get a ring at the end of the day. He resigned himself to a life of romantic misery chasing the one man he thought loved him more than life itself. Turns out the romance novels he read don’t exactly happen in life. Your best friend doesn’t become the wholehearted lover you want but Jack was willing to take anything Gabe gave. 

Is that why he’s here? Thighs being nudged apart as teeth scrape against his jaw. It feels good, he knows Jesse’s got a healthy cock between his legs that could scratch every itch he’s had for the past few years. 

Can he let go? He wants to. 

It would be so easy to. 

“Relax.” Jesse mutters against his ear. Jack feels a pressure between his legs that he involuntarily bucks into. Again. And again. It feels good, like lightning shooting up his spine. He can’t stop himself from grinding into the impossible good feeling that floods his system. 

“Fuck you.” Jack gasps, rocking the seam of his pants against Jesse’s palm like a bitch in heat. He doesn’t want to think about how he’ll soak through his pants soon. He doesn’t want to think about what a fool he is for allowing this to happen. 

But letting go is…  _ good _ . Gabe used to whisper that in the back of tents in some shitty forest when it was just the two of them in canvas. The way he’d unbutton and shed him of his clothing with sweet promises of a better life and life long partnership clouded his judgment when it came to sleeping with his commander. He should have known better. Gabe was good at getting what he wanted by any means necessary.

Jack grunts when Jesse’s hand leaves. He tilts his head to chase Jesse’s mouth with his own. The kiss is barely a kiss and more mashing of clacking teeth. He shouldn’t allow this but it feels  _ good _ . 

“Gonna let me fuck you, Jack?” Jesse growls against his lips. Jack shivers, a nod that shakes his entire body. It’s permission to screw him sideways and Jack isn’t sure how long he’s wanted this but, fuck, he does. 

One day he hopes Gabe will forgive him but he knows Gabe doesn’t care, did he ever? 

The surprising part of all of this is how slow Jesse takes it. Jack’s head spins from the drop of Jesse’s aggressive facade. Was that also just a play to have Jack where he wanted him? What is with the men in his life and trying to manipulate a situation in which they get what they want at the expense of Jack’s sanity?

Fingers grip his jaw to make Jack face Jesse. Jack tries to shut his eyes, tries to avoid the way McCree looks at him like he’s the only thing that matters in the world, let alone in this little sliver in the bowels of an Overwatch base.

“Want some verbal feedback, ain’t about to do something you’ll regret here. I got time, I got so much time. Been waiting… for a fucking decade for you to get your head out of Gabe’s ass. Don’t know what he’s got that I ain’t had for years. Dick’s mediocre at best.”

That startles a laugh out of Jack. Of course, Gabe would’ve fucked Jesse. They weren’t mutually exclusive. He just didn’t think Gabe would… no, he should have known. Jack was his second once and they fucked on every conceivable surface when they were commander and subordinate. 

“It was good dick. Real good. Even better when you had that post mission high and he’d shove you on to the nearest surface and raw the absolutely fuck out of me,” Jack’s voice sounds like he’s in a memory. A good one. Plenty of them. It wasn’t like it was all bad. It used to be pretty good. 

Jesse huffs and Jack turns his head to blink at him. 

“Right. So. I’m gonna just back off now and you can wallow in your dick of an ex and you can call me once you’re over him.” Jesse starts to pull away when Jack grabs the front of his gaudy outfit. Why couldn’t he wear something sensible for once in his damn life?

“I liked it when you were bossy and in charge. I don’t go for men that wilt at the sight of my body count. You gonna perk up buttercup or you gonna let this piece of ass walk because you can’t win against a metaphorical ghost?”

McCree growls and shoves Jack against the wall once more. His head bounces against the drywall but it doesn’t hurt, merely shocks him for a second. That second is long enough for Jesse to fall to his knees and fumble with Jack’s pants. 

Jack almost makes a sound when cool, recycled air rushes against the heat of his bared anatomy. His cock stands away from his body, thighs slightly shiny where they part ever so slightly. Jack doesn’t miss the way Jesse’s eyes light up, the way his palm drags against the skin of his inner thigh. 

Jack doesn’t forget their location. Not for a single second does he forget they’re in a hallway in which someone could easily find them in a compromised position. It makes his cock twitch in the air that Jesse follows with his mouth. 

Jack can’t remember the last time someone gave him head. It’s hot, wet, and the suction makes him squirm. Jesse spreads him like this doesn’t bother him. It does reaffirm the rumors of Genji and him, the only other man Jack knows with a similar body to him. 

Jack has to lock his knees before his thighs begin to tremble. It feels good, the way Jesse sucks and licks the head of his cock. Every time his tongue brushes the head, Jack’s lower stomach quivers. 

Jesse’s fingers slip between his thighs to chase the slick lines of Jack’s precum. Instinctively, Jack opens his legs as wide as his barely pushed down pants allow but it’s enough to give Jesse the access he wants. He feels pressure around his hole, quick swipes to gather slick before pushing in. 

Jesse has thick fingers, Jack muses as if he hasn’t seen those hands. They make his toes curl and head hit the wall. Jack is stuck between humping Jesse’s face or grinding against his fingers. He feels adrift, rocking between both sensations to find relief within them. 

The orgasm, itself, surprises him. There’s a rush and static that crackles in his ears. A choked up sound manages to work itself through his lips as Jack feels wet between his legs. 

He isn’t stupid, he knows what happened. He tries not to feel embarrassed but it’s hard not to. He thought he was over that reaction, the way it rushes and soaks everything. Turns out— he hasn’t. Fuck, he hopes he doesn’t scare Jesse away. 

When Jack opens his eyes, Jesse is covered in slick and release. He owlishly blinks up at Jack like he’s the single greatest thing in the world. Jack stares at him, letting his eyes rake down his body. This poor baby is so hard he’s nearly breaking his zipper trying to escape his pants to find its way into a perfect wet and willing hole. 

Jack licks his lips and smacks them trying to work up the dexterity to ask Jesse what he wants but really, it’s what Jack wants. 

“Gonna fuck me ten ways to Sunday, Jesse? Got me all worked up and wanting. Gonna waste it on your knees or give me exactly what I want.” 

Jack shouldn’t tease but Jesse stumbling to his feet is endearing. He really does want Jack and Jack’s undivided attention. The nicest thing Jack could do is give it to him. What stops them from doing more of this? Nothing except for Jack’s yearning for a man that doesn’t want him back. 

The decision pretty much makes itself. 

Jack finds himself turned into the wall, spread, and teased by the head of Jesse’s cock between one thought and the next. He tries to grind back to push Jesse in but the man doesn’t budge. 

“Fuck, you taste as good as I thought. Think you’ll like this enough to moan my name.” Jesse rumbles, tapping the head of his cock against Jack’s slick entrance. He can feel the way Jack’s orgasm still twitches his hole. It’s hot that Jack still feels aftershocks. 

Jesse will not let this opportunity escape him. 

Jack pushes his forehead into the wall as Jesse eases himself in. The head of his cock is thick in the way it spreads him. Jack wants to clench to push him out or pull him in, he can’t decide. He just needs something, anything to make this process faster. 

“Fuck me, Jesse. God damn, this slow shit can wait, I want to get fucked.” Jack growls, pushing his hips back. 

Jesse doesn’t waste a second to fully sink himself in. The pace moves from something soft, luxurious to rough and raw. Jack doesn’t miss the way a condom never appeared but it’s not like Jesse can knock him up. There ain’t a way in hell he's got swimmers powerful enough to override SEP enhancements. 

But the thought makes this riskier, more thrilling. Jack loosens himself as much as he can force to take, take, and take Jesse at every angle and pressure. The way the head of Jesse’s cock presses and drags along the good spots makes him shout. Little breaths puff out on every breath that’s punched out of his lungs. 

He hasn’t felt good in such a long time. When’s the last time someone put his pleasure first before chasing his own? Jack can’t remember. 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Jesse pants out, forehead pressed against the back of Jack’s neck. Jack merely nods, clenching even tighter to give Jesse the tightness he knows men like. It achieves its desired result, Jesse moans and releases after three more strokes into the depths of his body. The rush of heat makes Jack’s cock twitch with renewed interest, even if he has no want to get off again, “Fuck, fuck. Jack. You’re good. You're so good. Can’t think of why any man wouldn’t fall to their knees for you. Fucking pain in the ass but fuck you’re worth it.” Jesse doesn’t stop talking. All these nice words make Jack’s back prickle with an embarrassed sweat. 

“Gonna clean me up?” Jack mutters, flush climbing up his neck as Jesse still doesn’t stop telling him nice things. This isn’t supposed to be that kind of fuck but Jack won’t deny it’s nice to hear how much he’s wanted, needed, desired. A shiver rolls down his spine. He can’t decide if it’s from Jesse pulling out or from the pleasantries that caress his ear. 

“Wanna hit the shower in my place?” McCree offers, like a gentleman. Jack’s hands reach down to pull up his pants to hide the evidence of their tryst as it begins to leak down his thighs. 

“Yeah, I'd like that.” Jack says with a little hesitation. 

He doesn’t know how to accept that someone might actually want him even though he’s old and used up. It makes him shiver, makes him feel a rush of affection his cold heart hasn’t felt in years. 

This could be good, if he’ll let himself have it. 

You know what? He deserves to enjoy this for just a little while and does. 


End file.
